Chapter 12

"I don't understand,"Dana probed when Officer Drake finished conveying his account of events.

It put Jake on edge that even Dana's brilliant mind wasn't comprehending Claire's behavior. He pulled his gaze from the drained officers to study Claire again.

She sat on Dana's antique couch, narrow shoulders slumped, shrouded in an orange chenille blanket. Claire's damp black hair hung in front of her face. With the two officers flanking her, the scene looked like some bizarre advertisement for a horror movie.

"I don't know what else to tell you, ma'am," Officer Drake replied. "You know as much as we do."

"And you expect me to believe she was like this when you found her?" Dana demanded.

"Yes," Officer Drake replied, annoyance edging his voice now. "Like I told you, we found the suspect nearby, wandering and disoriented."

"Suspect!" Dana interjected. "And just what is she suspected of?"

"She was acting possessed," the younger officer replied. He'd been quiet up until that point and from the disapproving glare Officer Drake sent his way, Jake got the feeling he'd been instructed not to offer his opinion.

Officer Drake cleared his throat and directed his attention to Dana. "Ma'am, we brought Miss Townsend to you as we were instructed to."

"And you still haven't told me who instructed you to bring her to my address, especially if you didn't know who she was, because according to you, she had no identification."

Officer Drake's lips pressed into a thin line. Jake admired Dana's protectiveness when it came to Claire, but her line of questioning was wearing the senior officer down. Jake reached for Dana's hand, taking control of the situation before she got herself a free ride in the squad car parked outside.

"All that matters is that Claire is safe," Jake cut in. Ignoring the indignation in Dana's simmering brown eyes, he stood up and extended a hand to the weary officers. "Thank you for bringing her home and for taking the incident report about the break in, but it's been a long night. We'll take it from here."

The officers stood, but the younger one looked to his superior, who made no move to shake Jake's extended hand. "We were told to wait here," Officer Drake responded.

"Until when?" Dana asked.

"Until we got here." Everyone in the room turned to face the duo who'd just strolled into Dana's home like they owned the place.

"Jenks?" It was Jake's turn to look confused. "What are you doing here?"

Officer Hartwell stood beside the FBI's Assistant Director. Backlit by the ambient light of the foyer, they cut a menacing profile in Dana's normally inviting home.

Hartwell nodded to the officers. "Drake, Bryant, wait for me outside." The officers took their cue and Hartwell turned his attention back to them. "Dr. Gray, twice in one night. Sorry to interrupt your evening again."

"Again?" Jake questioned, garnering Hartwell's attention.

"Agent Shepard, I wasn't aware you'd be here." Hartwell turned to Jenkins. "I thought we had an understanding."

"We do," Jenkins replied.

"This doesn't feel like a tight circle," Hartwell grumbled.

"It's tight if I say it's tight," Jenkins snapped with finality.

"Feels more like a three-ring circus," Hartwell muttered just loud enough to be overheard.

"Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Jake asked, taking a step toward Hartwell. The two had buried the hatchet since getting acquainted with each other's fists during their last case, but Hartwell's tone was bordering on disrespectful, and that wasn't something Jake was about to tolerate.

"Why don't you follow up with your officers," Jenkins recommended, stepping between the two men to diffuse the tension. "I'll get Shepard and Gray briefed."

"Fine," Hartwell conceded. "But for the record, I'm not keen on bringing them on board."

Jake waited until Hartwell was outside before advancing on Jenkins. Keeping his voice low, he gestured toward Claire who still sat in a catatonic state on Dana's couch. "Please tell me you can explain what we're dealing with here."

Jenkins looked defeated as she shook her head. "The best I can do is direct you to someone who's offered to help."

"And who's that?" Jake asked.

"Dr. Roman Dvita has reached out. He's the psychologist from the clinic who's been treating Claire. He's advised us to refer any of his patients who've been affected by tonight's events to continue with his care."

Jake scoffed. "Now hardly seems like the time to be drumming up business."

Jenkins gave him a look that said he was missing something. With a slight nod of her head, she signaled for Jake to follow her out of the room, but he was done taking orders. "Enough with the secrecy. Just say it, Jenks."

Jenkins let the weight of her steely gaze move pointedly from Jake to Dana, but he held his ground. "Whatever it is, she needs to be read in on it, too."

Accepting Jake's decision, Jenkins walked forward and handed Dana a photo. "Dr. Dvita made it clear that you have more than one friend in common. And if tonight's incident is any indication, they both might be in danger."

When Dana's eyes settled on the photograph, she looked like she'd been slapped. "Meredith and Claire?" The names came out like a sob. "What does this mean?"

"I suggest you call Dr. Dvita," was the only answer Jenkins gave before heading toward the door.

A million scenarios whirred in Jake's mind after looking at the photo of the two women. They'd been captured in an animated discussion, with a third party. The man's face was turned away from the camera, but Jake's gut told him he had something to do with this.

There was no love lost between Jake and Meredith, but if this mystery man hurt Claire, Jake would go to the ends of the earth to make him pay. Dana looked like she was going to collapse, but Jake needed answers.

Jumping into action, Jake led Dana to the couch and sat her next to Claire. "Stay with her, I'll be right back."

Jogging, Jake caught up with Jenkins just as Hartwell and the Metro officers were pulling away. "Jenks, what the hell? You drop a bomb like that and just walk out?"

"Jake, if you think that's the bomb, you've got another thing coming."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know how else to say it. Stay away from this case, Shep. And if you care about Gray, you'll keep her out of it, too."

"How? I don't even know what the hell's going on."

"And it's better that way."

"Jenks, ya gotta give me something. I get a phone call from Dana saying someone was murdered at Claire's torched rehab facility and that she's missing. I show up here and find someone breaking into Dana's house and then Claire shows up looking like the walking dead. Now you give me a photo of Claire and Meredith, who's not supposed to have the freedom to make social calls by the way, and I'm supposed to just ignore all that?"

"You're supposed to be on vacation, Shep. So be on vacation. Maybe take Gray and the Townsend girl with you. But make sure she follows up with her doctor and gets the care she needs."

"Jenks—"

"Jake," she stepped closer to him, her voice softening just enough to let her Louisiana accent through. "Wade filled me in. I'm sorry for what you're going through with your mom ‘n ‘em."

"If that's why you're keeping me off this …"

"It's not, I just need you to keep your distance and trust me on this one."

Jake knew when arguing was useless, so he nodded, shoved his numb hands into his pockets and watched Jenkins drive away into the frigid night.

Back inside,Jake turned his attention to the most important women in his life. Both sat on the couch, draped under the warmth of an orange blanket. What he wouldn't do to crawl under there with them and sleep for a day straight. Or maybe longer.

His gaze washed over Claire, picking up the imperceptible differences that only surfaced when reunited with someone after a long period of time apart.

Claire was the same, yet different. It wasn't the weight she'd lost, the slightly darker circles under her eyes or the emptiness in her gaze … but something below the surface he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He was suddenly reminded of his mother. Jake hated drawing that parallel and hoped he was just projecting his own fears into the current situation—the very thing the FBI had trained him not to do.

For a fleeting moment, Jake wondered if his lifestyle was finally catching up to him. He'd been running from one thing to another since the day his father walked out on him. First it was the Army, then the FBI, but none of it seemed to make a difference. He still felt that unfathomable void no matter what he did, except for now, in the quiet moments when he was with Dana and Claire.

All he wanted to do was to keep them safe and make the moments they had together stretch long enough to carve out some normalcy. It was something he'd never craved before and that scared him because it meant he had something to lose.

Dana caught him staring and the crease between her brows deepened with worry. Shifting the blanket so it was only covering Claire, she stood up and joined him in the kitchen.